


Back Alley Round-Up

by urusai_lilania



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Cell Phones, Don't copy to another site, Drinking, Gay Sex, Italian Mafia, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Rough Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Ties & Cravats, dumpster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 14:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urusai_lilania/pseuds/urusai_lilania
Summary: Yamamoto has spent years bonding with his fellow guardians, so when Ryohei drunk dials him to join him at the local bar, it's bound to be good. And there's nothing Yamamoto loves more than a good game. And where they roam, a little bird is sure to follow...





	Back Alley Round-Up

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic that I'd yet to post here since my migration! I don't know that I ever posted it anywhere, but if I did, it'd have been livejournal or aarin! Just in a big ol' Reborn mood. Cheers!

It’s been a longstanding tradition of Ryohei Sasagawa’s to demand that his old classmate drink with him, but Kyoya Hibari always refuses. Sometimes, the energetic Takeshi Yamamoto agrees to go instead, whenever Ryohei calls him from some dive spouting annoyance about the raven-haired prude. Yamamoto does not speak of why the man never drinks with his friend, but so long as he has the time he goes fill in the empty vortex that Ryohei is quickly filling with alcohol, broken bar stools, and strange little creations the man always ends up making out of his napkins. Ryohei doesn’t remember why Hibari never drinks with him. Yamamoto wonders why the man has no tolerance for alcohol by now but lets it pass.

The baseball player turned Mafioso knows why Hibari “doesn’t” drink with the overzealous man—or at least, he knows of _one_ definite reason. He’s pretty sure something like that would upset the slender man, and he knows it’s happened before. Yamamoto can hold his alcohol, has been doing so for years, for his father’s customers back home. For the very same reason, he can _act_ drunk, and in many situations this has saved his skin.

He doesn’t think he’s fooled Hibari though, not one bit. But, for now, the memory of that last night is protecting him from being bit to death. Until Hibari can finally build up enough denial towards the whole thing, Yamamoto is safe. Ryohei, on the other hand… well, Ryohei is safe because he is Ryohei, and Hibari can only handle being around the male for so long before turning tail and running. They should have realized early on that the easiest way to make Hibari agree to anything was to bribe him with a few particulars or to simply reveal Ryohei behind Door Number Two. It may not be the cleanest agreement, but Hibari will perform. If it gets him away from the platinum-haired Amazon that is hell-bent on acting out their relationship—_whatever_ it is—so be it.

So, Yamamoto mused. The easiest way to sleep with Kyoya Hibari, ex-head prefect of Namimori Middle (though if you asked the man, he probably thought it’d always be his job, even beyond the grave) and current Cloud Guardian of the Vongola Famiglia… was to be a thick-skulled excitable man who can’t hold his liquor yet can handle a massive amount of biting. It was that, or simply step into it once said man has already captured the bird. After all, the only way Hibari would be able to really threaten Ryohei would be to bite the man’s fists clean off. And then, Ryohei would just nub people. Take away anything else, it’d be nubbing all the way. Nubbing—it sounded so pathetic and tenacious and downright annoying. Yamamoto wondered if Hibari had ever imagined Ryohei, all nubbed out.

Then he wondered if Ryohei had ever managed a clean punch to Hibari’s teeth before. After all, Ryohei was all about the direct approach. That was how it had all gotten started, after all.

~~~

They weren’t so much kicked out of the bar as they were gracelessly allowed out the back door, so that no one would have to see them exit the normal way. Of course, no one wise enough would whisper anything about the Vongola’s men. It never ended well with all the hotheaded members or the violent ones… Still, it was a graceless exit in every sense of the word as the duo stumbled out into the dark alley in the wee hours.

“Heh… oops…” Yamamoto admitted, rubbing his skull. Glancing to his right and then his left, he found his companion—head first against the steel dumpster and slouched with his ass in the air. “Pfff… hey, senpai, you’re exposed.”

“Mnn…” came from the dumpster. Ryohei was singing, it sounded like. The same note, over and over. Yamamoto laughed warmly, feeling the liquor swim around in his veins pleasantly. He supposed he should set his friend to rights, though.

“Ano… senpai?”

Ryohei suddenly flipped where he landed, guffawing loudly. He climbed unsteadily to his feet, his eyes attempting to watch Yamamoto do the same. “Stupid _WHORE_!” Ryohei declared loudly to the night sky, almost triumphantly.

“Eh?” Yamamoto replied, chuckling weakly. “Who’s a whore? Did a whore feel you up? I didn’t feel you up… I don’t remember doing it, anyway…” he considered. He may have, but he was nowhere drunk enough to actually slip up and let the act become real…

Ryohei pumped a fist in the air and tried to swipe, but the motion nearly put him back on his face again so he replaced it with another pump, this time with a bit more indignant flair. “That… damn prude! Makes time for anyone else _but_ me!”

Ah, that was familiar ground. “Hibari? Haha, that’s because senpai goes and bangs down his door the second he gets back in!” Yamamoto jeered. “He can’t even make appointments during that time, ‘cos senpai would just inter—”

“Yamamoto!” The swordsman blinked at this, tilting his head at the back of his drunken friend. Ryohei turned around, shoving his fists against his hips and grinning lopsidedly. “Wanna fuck?”

Glancing the platinum-blonde up and down, Yamamoto laughed, really laughed. “Is that all I’m good for? Jeez, senpai, ya didn’t have to drag me all the way out here for that,” he teased.

“I wanted Hibari here!” Ryohei reminded him, a scowl flitting across his face. “But you’re here now,” he said, nodding sagely. He glanced around now, at a loss. His scowl melted away as he kicked about on the ground for a second. “…Who the hell throws perfectly good rope away?” he demanded of no one in particular.

This… was very good logic, Yamamoto decided, ignoring the outburst. At least, for a drunken Ryohei, it was. A bit insulting, but it was Ryohei, and you couldn’t get anywhere with the guy if you were going to bruise easily, mentally or physically. “But… you wanted to fuck Hibari in this alley? I don’t think he would have agreed very much…” Of course, when it came to those two, agreements weren’t exactly a dime a dozen. Alleys were, though, and Yamamoto was learning that pretty fast.

Ryohei swatted the air before his nose. “Tch. I would have let him drag me off somewhere. He’s more agreeable that way.”

“…And I can’t?” Yamamoto finished, blinking. That’s what it sounded like, anyway. Shrugging, Ryohei was growling at the buttons on his shirt already, his tie having been shoved in a pants pocket hours earlier. Yamamoto arched an eyebrow at this. “Uh, senpai, you know I’m not used to…” he trailed off, thinking. Ryohei had wanted Hibari here, after all…

This only received a blank look from the other man. He had already gotten his shirt open and was desperately trying to find a way to undo his pants without effectively getting caught in the zipper. “Whatever works with you,” came the reply finally.

“_Seriously_?” Yamamoto demanded, laughter erupting from his chest. Too much… It was really too much fun, being with these guys all the time. He didn’t even have to worry about what Ryohei would think in the morning, because if the guy bothered to remember anything, he’d probably consider it a bonding moment. Ryohei was not someone you had to worry about waking up the next morning and suddenly have to try and shake your way out of commitment. As he flicked at the buttons of his shirt, Yamamoto wondered if Ryohei even considered himself committed to Hibari.

Hell, if you asked the man, he’d most likely offer up Kyoko, his sister. Maybe Tsuna, the boss, their friend. Or, if his odd brain actually gleaned the proper meaning, _possibly_, maybe, he’d say Hibari. If he actually thought so. Of course, if he believed he was committed, would he still be offering to fuck with Yamamoto in an alleyway? …Keeping in mind the drunk factor… and the total lack of social tact… and the fact that this wasn’t a first—for Ryohei, anyway. It was the first time the man had extended the invitation directly to Yamamoto. No, normally, Yamamoto just acted as witness and sober-buddy—hardly sober, but definitely passable.

Before he could even understand what had happened, Yamamoto felt his back connect painfully with the filthy trashy ground. He blinked. He should have been paying attention, he realized, not lost in his thoughts. Now he was on his back in the back alley of a bar next to its dumpsters. Ryohei was forceful, he knew that much. But wandering mind or not, Yamamoto was very aware of his surroundings—and Ryohei was very good at disregarding them. Either way, Yamamoto was knocked flat on his back by Ryohei’s tackle, and the Sun Guardian was now trying to undo the felled man’s belt. Well, Ryohei won that round, he mused. “Senpai, I like that belt,” Yamamoto started, trying to watch the rougher man negotiate it.

The back door opened, streaking dim smoky light from the interior across Yamamoto’s eyes as he tilted his head back in momentary shock. He knew those shoes. “…Shit,” Yamamoto cursed, an odd smile gracing his lips as he fought to regain his breath. Dare he laugh? But he already was, he realized. It was etched all over his face, and his body was shaking with it. He tried to wrap his arms across his torso to steady himself, but it was too little too late.

“Wao.” Hibari twitched, bringing the heel of his shoe down upon Yamamoto’s shoulder. _Hard_. But this was Yamamoto he was stepping on, so it wasn’t like he expected anything more than a yelp—but he didn’t think it through—he knew that the moment the man’s hands reached out and wrapped tightly around the outstretched calf, just behind the knee, completely yanking Hibari off his feet and out of the doorway. The heavy steel door fell shut without anyone to prop it open, and all light to the alley save the moon was lost.

“Ah, senpai, I caught a little bird!” Yamamoto sang out to the other male. Ryohei appeared from somewhere below his belt, frowning deeply.

“_HIBARI!!!_ You came drink after all!”

“Takeshi Yamamoto, if you do not release me…” Hibari began softly, a low growl in his tone.

“…You’ll bite me to death,” the man finished, exasperated but amused nonetheless. “Ryohei-senpai, what’d you do with the rope you found earlier?”

Grey eyes clouded for a moment, glancing off. “Ah… it’s by the dumpster.”

“Grab it.”

A growl worked its way around Hibari’s chest and up his throat as Yamamoto eyed the clearly pissed off man with growing amusement. “How’d you come to be out here on such a nice night, Hibari?”

Scoffing, Hibari narrowed his eyes as he assessed his position. It was useless for him to point out that he had set it so that his phone constantly traced the other Guardians, and was not necessarily something he wanted to let them be aware of anyway. Instead he offered, “It helps when certain _loud_ members of a herd forget to disable their wiretap.”

“Ah! Right, right,” Yamamoto agreed. He knew Hibari wasn’t climbing to his feet because Yamamoto would just yank him down again, but what he didn’t understand was why the man hadn’t just whipped out his tonfa to deal with the offending arm in the first place. Well, if for some reason it hadn’t occurred to Hibari to do so, it had just occurred to Yamamoto, and therefore would definitely be knocking on the door of Hibari’s growing annoyance. He’d just have to move first—and he could do that, couldn’t he?

Ryohei hummed cheerfully, watching as Yamamoto effectively climbed to his feet and lunged before Hibari could manage the same. As the smaller man twisted to gain freedom, or at least severely injure his captor, Yamamoto shifted his grip to Hibari’s waist, effectively keeping him from running and pinning his wrists while tossing the handcuffs that were fastened there. “Grab ‘em,” Yamamoto ordered lightly, dragging the struggling man towards the side of the dumpster. He found and dropped Hibari’s tonfa along the way.

Skidding around to gather up the cold metal cuffs, Ryohei watched the procession with growing excitement. He had no real clue what Yamamoto was up to, but that man was a bit more devious than people gave him credit for, and the alcohol was still thumping its way heavily through his veins. Yamamoto always knew how to make a good game of things. If it was Ryohei, he’d have just tackled Hibari and ripped his pants off and got to work, unless the grey-eyed man offered an alternative.

Hibari was becoming anxious, and it was all happening too quickly for his mind to understand. He had figured on finding Ryohei in the alley, as usual—he hadn’t expected Yamamoto to be with him. Now he was too busy keeping his cool at his loss of tonfa, at his binding, at this flat out _violation_ of his person. He didn’t honestly have anything else he could think to spit out in retaliation at the pair however. The second Ryohei stepped over to them, Yamamoto had the boxer wind the Cloud Guardian, long enough to get him cuffed a bit tighter than appropriate. Digging Ryohei’s tie from his pants pocket, Yamamoto slipped it over Hibari’s head and tightened the noose of it at Hibari’s mouth, rolling and stuffing the remainder of the tie within. Smiling warmly at the older male as annoyed grey eyes stared hard at him, Yamamoto ruffled the short black hair before taking the length of rope from Ryohei’s intrigued hands. Yamamoto had played games with the bird before enough to realize that Hibari suffered from curiosity just as much as the rest—if he could keep him guessing just right, then the man wasn’t about to step out of it.

“Okay, senpai. See that ladder? I need you to get it down here. We’re gonna string him up and it’d be better if we could at least keep his feet near the ground,” Yamamoto explained, watching as the grin on the boxer’s face spread and Hibari’s expression flared. Hibari twisted his neck slightly to get a view of the progress, his brow knitting. The swordsman watched as Hibari attempted to work his mouth and failed. “Ah, there’s too much in your mouth to spit out, Hibari,” Yamamoto explained cheerfully, enjoying the look the bound male gave him. “That and I wrapped the tie around a bit of boarding from my wallet. It’s too wide to pass back out without unfurling first. If you work that out, then I’ll just use something else,” he added, smirking.

“Ahhh…” Ryohei responded finally, holding onto the final rung of the ladder. “Yamamoto, how’s this gonna work?”

Thinking for a moment as he held the hostage, Yamamoto shrugged. “What, you mean are we flipping a coin or do ya have a preference?” Hibari renewed his thrashing again, but it was little better than a fish’s thrashings at this point. Yamamoto was good with his knots, and he had used his own tie to take care of Hibari’s feet, so unless the man actually worked at the knots, the bit of movement the setup gave him wasn’t going to free him.

Ryohei frowned deeply—the true sign of a drunken fiend thinking. “Hm. Hm. Hm… I’m used to back!” Ryohei announced finally, nodding. “How do you go for the front on a man?”

Yamamoto took this for a drunken man’s confusion; he knew damn well from Ryohei’s past tales that he knew his way around Hibari—he probably was just taking the situation too literally. “With vigor,” Yamamoto responded with a laugh. “All right then, take him, I’ll rig him up.” Cautiously he passed the squirming bundle off to the blonde before setting up the rope with the ladder, and then passing that along through the cuffs and tightening it the right amount. “If you’ve got back it’ll be easier if you’re on the open, and I’ve got the wall,” he explained. Ryohei nodded, shook his head, and grinned.

Grinning back, Yamamoto gave his cohort the thumbs up; that was really all the other man was going to understand with bait in front of him like this. “Got a real treat now, huh senpai?”

Ryohei lunged, already having forgotten Yamamoto’s presence, but that was fine. He wasted only a moment to see if he could remove Hibari’s jacket and shirt, immediately discarding that idea and ripping the man’s belt from his hips. Yamamoto grinned and shrugged a shoulder as Hibari’s glare became a wide-eyed sort of distress. “Oh come on, Hibari, you can’t tell me it hasn’t happened before,” he responded. “Just be happy he didn’t ruin your suit?” the caramel-eyed swordsman added as he began flicking Hibari’s shirt open. It’d be better if it were loose, if they weren’t… _intentionally_ going to rip it up. Not with how Ryohei was going about things.

He began licking at the exposed abdomen, vaguely aware that he was going to have to be careful with Ryohei on the other side; he didn’t particularly want to bust his ass against the cold, dirty brick wall behind him. Then the other man growled deeply, an arm wrapping tightly around Hibari’s torso as he forced himself in. Yamamoto blinked and stopped his own movements, standing up to watch Hibari’s expression turn from vague distress to a blank, intense pain as he began to twist his neck feverishly. His body jerked, legs kicking awkwardly to try and get any sort of contact with the ground. Distorted growls and yelps escaped through the gag as Ryohei proceeded to force himself farther.

Yamamoto grimaced. “No prep, huh? Damn…” Now that he was spruced up, was there any real reason to leave Hibari gagged? It’d be more interesting to properly hear the sounds coming from his mouth, Yamamoto mused. Not to mention that Ryohei was obviously making the smaller man have a hard time breathing, and they didn’t want to accidentally _kill_ him… What a wonderful time that would be, explaining to the boss that they had knocked off Hibari, the vicious bird that was so hard to catch and kill—how on earth had they managed that? Haha, funny story…

Gesturing with his fingers what he was going to do, the swordsman cautiously set his digits within the Cloud Guardian’s mouth, trying to work the boarding out from between the gnashing and choking fits that the captive was having. The roll loosened its grip on the boarding, and he slipped both from the maw of the beast quickly, lest the man suddenly snap his mouth shut.

Hibari gagged, coughing up built up saliva but still snapping violently for Yamamoto’s fingers. “Hey now, Hibari! I’m only trying to help,” the taller man lilted, avoiding the teeth and loosening the noose so it sat around the man’s shoulders for safekeeping. He watched as the teeth disappeared behind grimly set lips that twitched with annoyance; Hibari couldn’t possibly cope with the saliva that hung from his lips, trailing down his chin.

Yamamoto reached out, catching the man’s jaw in a vice grip with one hand, wiping away the offending saliva with the other. Hibari’s eyes burned at him, cursed him, threatened him, but it did little good. It was Takeshi Yamamoto he was staring at; the suspiciously misleading boy had grown into a man who could bear anything, so long as it was directed at him. He could also return any cruelty directed at himself with an intensity and passion that most would feel an idiot would be incapable of—the benefits of deception. “Maa… Hibari, don’t get tired yeah? My turn next.”

“Tch, why wait?” Ryohei growled, glancing over Hibari’s shoulder to the other male.

Laughter slipped quietly between the swordsman’s lips. “I can play too, senpai, I’m just not used to sharing is all. First time for everything.” The Sun Guardian grunted in return.

Yamamoto removed his jacket and tossed it in the growing pile before crouching, bracing his back against the dirty wall. He really wanted his tie back… as he was sure Hibari would love the movement of his legs back. He could get his tie back without letting that happen, yeah? Stealing the thing quickly, Yamamoto looped his arms around the back of Hibari’s knees and held tight as the man’s legs passed on either side of him. It worked well enough. To test it, Yamamoto ran his tongue alongside Hibari’s inner thigh. He could feel the muscles and tendons of the legs jerk, trying to kick or crush his head, anything it could connect with. He chuckled, bringing the male’s legs close enough that he could rest his feet against the wall behind Yamamoto’s back. Ryohei just shuffled closer in too; if the boxer didn’t know how to shuffle closer to his target, then there was a problem that wasn’t Yamamoto’s. At least this way Hibari could content himself shoving off against the wall back at Ryohei—not that it would do him any good. Hibari couldn’t fend off Ryohei the last time this happened, and he wasn’t even bound then. What was Yamamoto doing that time? Oh, right. Filming. The world worked in mysterious ways, he mused.

Warmth and cold both radiated from the man’s bare skin as Yamamoto’s saliva clung to it, as he shivered and muscles jerked and he made frustrated little noises he tried to keep to himself. Yamamoto sucked lazily as he dug his fingers into the backs of Hibari’s thighs, kneading the flesh painfully and playing with his tongue. He was more curious to watch what happened tonight, hadn’t expected to be a player. Taking Hibari deeply and swirling, Yamamoto wondered if that was a bad sign. Gokudera had told him before when they were younger that Yamamoto must feel the need to be completely not in the right mood, _ever_, chatting the bomber up and feeling him up and what sort of person was he for doing it like that? Yamamoto just thought that was how it worked.

He rather liked fucking with a person in more ways than one, and being in a good mood on top of it all. Sex made people feel good, didn’t it? He was wrong for always feeling good? Angry sex… ah, that’s why these two interested him so much. Now he had it; it didn’t get much more violent than Ryohei and Hibari, unless he wanted to go back to visiting Varia and spying on XANXUS and Squalo—nah, at least he could get up close and personal in this mess.

Yamamoto pulled back, choosing to just lick and breathe on Hibari in insanely small little motions and enjoy the force the other male exerted trying to act with violence upon either of his attackers. Ryohei obviously didn’t notice much less care what the small grey-eyed man attempted, he was busy with business. It was too entertaining not to just sit back and watch.

“Does this… ngh… amuse you?” Hibari spat out, biting back a wince.

“Hahaha, yeah!” Yamamoto slipped, grinning as his warm laughter sent a shudder through the man’s legs. “Hibari’s not against it either!”

“_KILL_.”

“Aww, ya don’t really _mean_ that. Ya love us!” Only a growl that time. “Haha, well, physically anyway.” Oh yeah, that expression was priceless. But still… he was going to get hell for this later on. He might as well earn it, right? Grinning, Yamamoto set his mouth around Hibari and sucked hard, watching the man above him. Hibari’s lips curled as he snarled, first at the man beneath him and then over shoulder, his legs going rigid. Oh yeah. Death was gonna be _fast_. But Yamamoto was good at recoveries. The harder the death, the more it was worth it. To prove a point that should have been left alone, Yamamoto set his teeth against the skin, the man grinned tauntingly at his captive. His timing couldn’t have been much worse.

Yamamoto was spending too much time playing and watching Hibari’s snarling form and not enough paying attention to Ryohei.

Hibari hissed as Yamamoto’s back slammed hard into the cold brick, cracking something and clenching his jaw. Hibari jerked hard as he came as well, making matters only worse as Ryohei bear-hugged the man to him tightly, biting a chunk out of the Cloud Guardian’s shoulder. Gingerly Yamamoto popped his mouth open to swallow, letting Hibari loose as the man twitched insanely.

The platinum-haired man laughed loudly, raucously as he let go, smacking his fists together and punching the air just inches away. “Alright!” he yelled, prancing down the alley with his pants at his feet.

Trying to rub his sore jaw with Hibari’s leg, Yamamoto laughed. “Haha, all done, senpai? Pull your pants up!”

“Fuck no! But I guess I gotta let ya go at it, huh?” the man wondered, staring at the sky. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Back alley, Harry’s Bar.”

The fire in Ryohei’s eyes doubled. “Oho! Let’s go in for drinks!”

“…I don’t think they’ll let ya back in, senpai,” Yamamoto commented with a smile.

“Dammit. Can’t we get service back here?!”

Glancing both his senpai over, the caramel-eyed man tilted his head. “Ah, I don’t think they’ll wanna once they see what we’ve been up to.”

“Eh? Ah, Hibari! We can just toss him in the dumpster ‘til they bring us wine!”

Exasperated, waved his hands in front of him. “But they…”

“Sweet talk their asses!”

Blinking, Yamamoto paused. “…Pardon?”

“You heard me, pretty boy! Sweet talk whoever comes to the door so we can get more wine!” Ryohei was in high spirits, surely. Did sex make it easier for Ryohei to function, even piss-drunk as he was? Ryohei had yet to fall face first again, after all.

“Uh… heh… heh…” Yamamoto sweat-dropped, unsure of what to say. Looking to Hibari, he grimaced.

“It doesn’t matter what you do anymore, you’re dead,” the man muttered darkly, his face shadowed as he shook. “I don’t really give a shit anymore what either of you do.”

“Ah, you’d think that, but you’d be wrong,” Yamamoto commented, finally standing. “Alright, senpai, you’re on.”

“WOOHOO!” Ryohei cheered, pumping his fists into the air. “MORE WINE AND CHEESE!”

“Ah, cheese too? Okay okay, but ya gotta toss Hibari first,” Yamamoto reminded his friend, jerking a thumb to the hanging man. Haha! Toss Hibari. It’d be a rare occasion the man would get to say that, and mean it. Live while the living’s good! (Beg the boss for forgiveness tomorrow!—Not that it’d be hard for Yamamoto; Tsuna could never tell him no anyway. Even if he _did_ tell Ryohei no… the man would never hear it.)

Ryohei grinned at his ex-classmate like a shark, unhooking him and tossing him into the dumpster before immediately flinging himself in as well. “Ali-_oop_!”

Yamamoto cringed at the impact sound, shaking his head in wonder. Hibari was going to _slaughter_ them. Over and over again. Dumpster diving took on a rather new appearance though—and who knew that Ryohei still had enough of a brain to know Hibari would have climbed out if left alone. Rapping his fist on the door, Yamamoto straightened himself out and plastered a grin on his face.

A small mousy waitress opened the door with a confused look, blinking once she saw the man standing there in their back alley. “Hey little bird, will a hundred buy me a decent bottle of wine and some cheese to go with it?”

“…Would you like crackers with that?” the girl whimpered, squeaking as an affirmative was growled from within the rather noisy dumpster.

Yamamoto beamed a smile at the waitress and tossed her two bills. “Rest is a tip for being good and keeping quiet,” the swordsman lilted playfully, laughing and glancing over his shoulder as the door shut. “Hey, seeenpai, it’s my turn!”

“Don’t look at me, he started it!” Ryohei swore back from within the dumpster.

“Haha, you happy now, yer little bird came back to ya?”

“D-delivery, sir,” the girl whimpered as she reappeared, slipping him the goods.

“Thanks, lady! Hey, senpai, we’ve got our refuel!”

“Fuck yeah! Hibari, drink with me!”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR SISTER!” the Cloud Guardian suddenly yelled loudly, sitting upright in the dumpster with a banana peel on his head. Well, it wasn’t Hibird, but at least it was yellow, Yamamoto mused. Ryohei must’ve tried something again. Honestly, when was the last time that Hibari had cursed them so loudly? …The last time the three of them were all back near base, probably. Hibari was so easy to tease, Yamamoto mused.

Ryohei swung an arm around the man’s shoulders and growled. “_WHAT’D YOU SAY ABOUT MY SISTER?!_”

Hibari narrowed his eyes and set his lips, all serious. Yamamoto sneaked a picture. Hibari could out-serious anybody, even sitting naked inside a bar’s dumpster. It didn’t mean either man cared, though. They were probably the last two men to be serious with, seriously… “She’s a ditz and can’t tell a lie from a puppy!”

“Haha, just like her brother!” Yamamoto laughed warmly, hopping into the dumpster to join them, goods in hand.

“You’re not any better, Takeshi Yamamoto,” Hibari growled warningly, ripping a piece of cheese from the platter.

“Nope, guess not! But I’ve got the food and booze and your clothes, so ya gotta be nice!”

Ryohei took a hard swig from the flask, wiping his mouth and passing it back to Hibari. Hibari glared at the thing as if it were poison, passing it back to the swordsman. “I thought I told you two not to make a habit out of this.”

“But you don’t answer my calls anymore!” Ryohei complained.

“And you two make things fun!” Yamamoto agreed, tossing more cheese to Hibari as he munched a cracker. “We’re like a secret society, we’re the only three who were in clubs in school too, right?”

Hibari scoffed at him and stole more from the platter. So long as neither drunk questioned why Hibari stayed here with them in the dumpster, he wouldn’t feel the need to leave… The game was getting ridiculous.

Muffled, a phone started ringing, distracting them all from any thoughts of abandoning ship.

“Eh? Who’s that?” Yamamoto wondered, squinting at the phone once he figured out the thing he was sitting on was Ryohei’s lost pants. “Oh? Kyoko-chan!”

“Give me that!” Ryohei growled, snatching his phone and nearly dropping the alcohol. Yamamoto caught it easily, claiming it as his own for the time being. He attempted to coax Hibari into trying some.

Ryohei put the phone to his ear and grunted as he scarfed more of the cheese. “Brother? Where are you? Tsu-kun says you were supposed to call him back!”

“I’m _fine_ Kyoko, this cheese is amazing!” he exclaimed, holding the piece he had been gnawing on before his face and scrutinizing it.

“C-cheese?” the girl wondered, her voice hesitating. Yamamoto snickered, pointing at Hibari and nearly losing a finger.

“Ah… _AH!!_ Hi… Hibari says ‘fuck you’, Kyoko! He’s horrible!” the man slurred into his phone, tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t listen to him! You are a very good girl!”

“Yooo, Kyoko-chan!” Yamamoto called out. “He’s with me, it’s okay, yeah? He’s just a bit tipsy, is all.”

“Ah—”

“He’ll be in the river by morning,” Hibari added lastly, ending the call and ripping the battery out of the phone.

Yamamoto’s phone was reinforced, with good reason. Making sure that Hibari was busy killing Ryohei’s phone, Yamamoto quickly whipped his out again and snapped a shot of them all from behind his back and over his head and quickly flicking a piece of garbage in distraction as he pocketed his phone. “Ah, you know, Hibari,” Yamamoto ventured, trying to keep his expression as serious as possible. “Hibird’s looking a bit under the weather lately.” Nose scrunching, Hibari eyed the Rain Guardian for a full minute before the man gave up. Reaching out and snatching the banana peel, Ryohei scoffed.

Hibari seethed, his pale skin actually turning bright red in the dim light of the alley as he stared at the thing that had been sitting on his head the entire time. Yamamoto sniggered, taking a swig to keep from cackling right in the Cloud Guardian’s face—after all, the man hadn’t bothered to abandon their dumpster meet yet. “Nah, it’s not bad yet Yamamoto, it melts and turn all sticky black shit before ya gotta throw it.” Plopping the thing right back on Hibari’s head, Ryohei smashed it on and straightened it out and grinned. He didn’t get why Hibari was glaring at him; he put the damn thing back like before.

Sadly, becoming notorious in the back alleys of bars was becoming a popular pastime to the trio, no matter how each night began. It just ended a wee bit worse and filthier each round, maybe. And now it seemed Ryohei was going to be making Yamamoto his own version of booty calls, too, or at least inviting him over to… dirty sex parties. Seriously? This was probably something Yamamoto should leave out of his next call to Squalo. Hopefully Ryohei would remember to leave it off of his report to Tsuna, but that was highly unlikely. So long as the man remembered it, it got reported. Yamamoto could only hope he was there to see Tsuna’s face…

When Gokudera found them in the morning, they were treated to a fireworks show to go with the sandwiches the bar’s owner had dropped off. It took Yamamoto a bit longer to take pictures of it on account of his pants somehow making their way up the fire escape to the third floor of the neighboring building.

Seriously. Some people in the world are just too kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in chatting with me and other lost souls? Hit us up at my discord server [here](https://discord.gg/3TMx3vs)!


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